


Curses

by Atoria (vulcan_slash_robot)



Category: Totalcox - Fandom
Genre: Cursed Object, M/M, Mutual Pining, magical transformation, pov switching, strong contender for favorite thing ive ever written, surprise you're a cat now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 20:49:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12093150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulcan_slash_robot/pseuds/Atoria
Summary: John left him alone for TEN SECONDS, with instructions not to touch ANYTHING, and now look what's happened. Yes, Jesse, this is your fault, and no, I'm not giving you any catnip.





	1. Chapter 1

“You are such a stereotype, bro, I can’t believe you actually have a family estate,” Jesse laughed, strolling down the endless bookshelves of the massive library in John’s ancestral home.

“Pardon me for coming from a country with more than a couple centuries of history in it,” John snipped back. “Although I’ll admit the place can be a bit inconvenient. I need to make a call and there’s no reception in here. Do you mind if I step out for a moment?”

“Sure man, there’s plenty to look at.”

“All right, just don’t touch anything.”

“What? You really think I’m gonna go around in here just smashing up your heirlooms? I’m offended.”

“I didn’t say that. But not everything in here is…safe. Be a good lad and keep your hands to yourself, that’s all I’m saying.”

Jesse scoffed as the Brit hurried out of the library with his phone in front of his face, searching for bars. Did John really think he couldn’t tell the difference between what was dangerous and what wasn’t? Yeah, plenty of things in here were obviously not toys. Sharp implements like swords, heavy suits of armor that could probably fall on you, delicate vases and other ornaments, but there was tons of stuff in here that couldn’t possibly hurt you! Books, for example. And jewelry. For some reason there seemed to be plenty of that around.

Near where he was standing, in fact, there was a glass case with a small pendant hanging in it. With a quick look around to be sure John hadn’t come back, Jesse tried the door to the case. It swung open without a sound. 

_This’ll show him not to give me dumb orders_ , Jesse thought mischievously.  _I’m not an idiot. I know what’s dangerous_.

He snatched the pendant out of the case and looped the chain quickly around his neck, planning to be standing nonchalantly by the books with it on when John returned. Then everything went wrong.

With a loud roar, all the walls and contents of the room rushed away from him and shot up in size. Jesse collapsed to the ground screaming in shock and threw his arms over his face.

When nothing else happened after a few beats, he dared to peek. All the colors were a little off. Everything was huge. And  _loud._  He could hear pounding footsteps racing up the hall toward the door. Somehow he was sure it was John because…he could  _smell_  him?

“John!” Jesse called. “I’m sorry I don’t know what happened! The room is all fucked up I didn’t—augh!”

His train of thought was interrupted when John burst through the door, just as big and distorted as everything else in the room, and reeking of panic. 

“JESSE! WHERE ARE YOU! WHAT’S HAPPENED?”

“I’m right here I don’t know everything’s—”

“JESSE!”

“I’M RIGHT HERE.”

“JESSE ANSWER ME!” John was still casting wildly around the room looking for his friend, and looking right past him every time.

“I AM ANSWERING YOU.”

“JESSE!”

“WHAT.”

“JESSE COME ON!”

“ **OY DOWN HERE, CRAZY PANTS!** “ Jesse screamed at the top of his lungs, starting to notice that his voice sounded very odd.

John sort of ground to a halt, a different shade of dread spreading over his face. His eyes locked on to the empty display case, then very slowly slid down to the pile of Jesse’s empty clothes at its base, and the large ginger tabby cat peering out of the t-shirt, which had yowled loudly at him every time he called for his missing friend. 

"…….Jesse?”

“John I don’t know what’s happening I’m scared,” Jesse replied, shrinking back slightly from the giant’s reproachful gaze. All John heard was “Mrrrrowmph.”

“Oh, god,” John muttered with a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “ _You had one job, Jesse_. ONE JOB. I can’t take you anywhere.”

"Mrow?”

John softened a little bit, looking down at the trembling ball of fur. Jesse’s puppy-dog-eyes were already legendary, and now with the added power of whiskers, fur and a teeny little cat face he could probably use them to melt a stone wall. John sat down in front of the frightened creature.

“Well Jesse, you remember bugging me about magic for the whole plane ride over here? Insisting that all British people were wizards?" 

"No no no NO I WAS BEING SILLY. Magic isn’t real, John please tell me it’s not real,” Jesse whimpered, edging away a little more.

“We’re not all wizards, of course, but…you’re in the land of magic now. Congratulations, you’ve gotten yourself cursed." 

John held up the screen of his phone in front of Jesse’s face as he finished speaking, so that the cat could see his own reflection. 

"JESUS CHRIST!!” Jesse shrieked. Before John could stop him, he’d peeled out and darted away screeching into some dark recess of the library, puffed up to twice his size.

“Oh for the love of…FINE. Ok, when you get a handle on yourself I’ll be in my study, trying to figure out how to fix this,” John got to his feet, scooping up Jesse’s clothes. “I suppose I’ll have to have a servant pop out and get a litter box and all that, this could take a while to work through.”

*********************************************************

A few hours later, John was sitting at his desk poring over a stack of ancient tomes by lamplight, trying to figure out  _exactly_  what the damn fool American had done. Without the actual amulet in hand, it was taking some effort to track down the specific curse he’d inflicted on himself. 

A small noise near the door made him turn his head. John peered over the brim of his reading glasses at the little ginger creature stomping awkwardly though the doorway, as if it didn’t know how its legs worked. He couldn’t help but smile, the poor thing was adorably helpless.

“Goddammit John, I’m so cold,” Jesse mewed pitifully. “How the hell did you think I’d know where your study was? I had to track your  _scent_  here do you know how  _weird_  that was??”

"Hullo Jesse,” John chuckled. “I don’t speak cat, so you can save your breath. Although that may be a bit of a stretch for you." 

"Suck my dick.”

“Somebody’s grouchy,” John said with a grin. “Anyways, come on up here and help me with this. We may be able to get this sorted in just a few days if you’ll cooperate." 

"You want me to what now.”

Jesse sat on the floor next to John’s chair, looking nonplussed. 

“Well come on, hop up here and look at these drawings for me. Up. Here,” John jabbed a finger at the desktop. Jesse leaned away with his ears back. “Jesse you’re a cat. You can jump that high. Do you want me to have to pick you up?”

Suddenly convinced by the uncomfortable idea of his friend’s enormous hands wrapped around his entire ribcage, Jesse gathered himself quickly and sprang for the edge of the desk. Unfortunately it was the first time he’d ever tried to jump as a quadruped, and he misjudged. 

“SHIT NO, antique wood Jesse! Antique wood!” John seized the cat roughly and hoisted his back half the rest of the way up, to stop him clawing frantically at the edge of the desk. Jesse shambled rapidly into a dignified sitting pose and licked his shoulder a few times.

“Fuck you I meant to do that,” he growled. 

“All right you, which one of these illustrations looks the most like what you messed with after I told you not to?” John indicated an array of sketches in front of him.

“You’re a fucking dick.”

“‘Meow’ is not the kind of answer I’m looking for.”

“What you assume I’m being helpful? Oh no fuck you,  _you_  figure it out. You’re the one that keeps this stupid shit in his house.”

“ _Point to one_ , smartass.” 

"MAKE ME, ASSHOLE.”

John squinted at him. “You’re not trying to help at all, are you?”

Jesse hissed. John sighed.

“Look, friend, I understand this is unsettling, to say the least. But I can’t get you back to normal until I know exactly what happened. I’m sorry this happened to you, and especially on my watch. I should have been able to protect you. Now I really need your help to put it right, or it’s going to take ages,” he reached out towards the tabby. “Truce?”

Without thinking, Jesse instinctively thrust his face into the outstretched palm before him.  _Oh god, he’s so warm. Why does this feel so good???_  

“Good lord, you’re freezing!” John exclaimed. “That’s it, screw personal space, you’re a cat. You’re not equipped for a drafty old place like this. C’mere.”

Jesse found himself being unceremoniously scooped up in sweater-clad arms and dumped into John’s lap, where the Brit went to work rubbing down his entire body. He dearly wanted to protest against such treatment, but the pure warmth and pleasure drained the fight right out of him. He collapsed into a puddle of fur, unable to string enough thoughts together to stay upset with John. 

He was drifting into a deep state of bliss when suddenly startled awake by a deep vibration from within him, rumbling through his whole body. It took him a moment to realize he was just purring.  _Oh so **that’s**  how you do that_, he thought. Jesse let his eyes slip shut again. Nothing was important in this moment but the pads of John’s gigantic thumbs kneading him behind the ears, unless it be the huge palms caressing his back or the radiant warmth seeping up into him from the man’s thinly-covered thighs.

**************************************************

They spent that night together, with Jesse curled up against John’s chest under the blankets of his old four-post bed. After that, though, Jesse started to lose track of time. His little cat-body demanded a lot of naps, and he never quite knew how long any of them lasted. Being a cat hadn’t improved his eyesight either, so he couldn’t read clocks himself and it wasn’t like he could ask John for the time.

And so, as an unknown number of hours drifted past in Jesse’s distorted world, he found himself clinging to John more and more. His friend was the one solid, comforting force left to him. As long as he stuck close to John he was well taken care of. Food, water and a warm lap were never far away. And even though they couldn’t talk, Jesse found their parallel one-sided conversations to be fairly entertaining.

“John I’m bored, come back down here,” Jesse would yowl, rolling around on the antique carpet at the base of the ladder John had scaled in search of books on high shelves.

“Go and eat if you’re hungry, I’ll be here when you get back,” John shouted down.

“You would be amazed how little fun you can have without thumbs I’m serious. Make something interesting happen,” Jesse continued to plead, stretching luxuriously. 

“Look I know you weren’t a big fan of the dry catfood but we ran out of tuna so you’ll have to deal with it for now. And poop in the god damn box I am not fishing you out of the toilet again.”

“FUCK THE PO-LICE, I DO WHAT I WAN,” Jesse flipped over suddenly and tore up and down the library with his ears back a few times, just a screaming orange blur.

“The hell is all of this energy coming from?” John mused, watching him. “You must be sleeping too much or something, you were never like this before. Here, get some exercise while I’m working,” he wadded up a useless page of notes and tossed it down to the floor. 

Jesse stuttered to a halt a few feet from the paper ball. 

“WhatwhatwhATWHAT,” he chattered, edging sideways towards it, “WHATISTHAT. WHATIS—”

He darted at it then backed away.

“WHATISIT.”

Quick swipe, retreat.

“IMMAGET!”

_WHAP._  The paper skittered off down the rug. Jesse’s eyes were all pupil.

“IMMAKILLIT!”

He hunched up and pounced. “DIE BITCH!” he roared (or squeaked, roaring is hard when you’re five inches tall). The paper never stood a chance. John stood on the ladder laughing, completely distracted. He had no way of knowing whether Jesse was acting so truly catlike by choice or not, but it was precious either way. 

********************************************

Considerably later, Jesse woke up alone on the rug where he’d fallen asleep in a sunbeam with the tattered remains of his prey. 

“Aw really come on, stop leaving me places,” he whined, peering around the empty library. The sun was almost down, so Jesse’s warm patch of carpet was rapidly growing less warm. It was lap time, and his lap had buggered off. “EY YO BOOKWORM, DAFUQ YOU AT?" 

There was no answer, so Jesse assumed the Brit was either in his study again or in bed. Jesse stumped off toward the kitchen to grab a bite of that abhorrent kibble before looking for him, grumbling and vowing that if John had dared to go to bed without him he was going to wake up with a face full of cat-ass. 

Or well.

Maybe not ass. Stomach or something. Something with a lot of fur to get up John’s nose. Yes. That was the point. Ass had too much subtext. Ass was too close to balls on cats, and he definitely didn’t want to be sticking his balls in John’s face. 

At least not while they were tiny little cat balls. That would be weird. Not that…it…wouldn’t be weird anyway? 

"Wait, what?” Jesse mumbled sleepily. “Brain I’m not sure I’m comfortable with the direction you’re going right now. Oh. OH. YES THIS IS A GREAT TIME TO REALIZE I’VE BEEN NAKED ALL ALONG THANK YOU.”

Jesse flopped down in the middle of the hall with his paws over his eyes and his thumpers splayed out behind him as unwelcome memories played back. All the time John had spent holding him, carrying him around, petting him all over, ruffling his fur; the way he’d snuggled up to the man’s hairy chest at night. How upset he’d been at the idea of John going to bed without inviting him. 

“Why what how??? How did this get to be a thing WHY DID I NOT EVEN NOTICE that I was naked and cuddling with my best friend?” Jesse mewed frantically. “How has this not been weird? Has this occurred to him? Does he WANT it this way? …….do  _I_  want it this way?”

Jesse laid there for a while, not moving except for a nervous twitch in his tail, trying to get a better answer out of himself than “maybe”. Suddenly a large pair of hands scooped him up without warning.

"THERE he is, what are you doing out here you silly kitty?” John murmured playfully, flipping Jesse over to cradle him in his arms. 

“AUGH JOHN NO.”

“You shouldn’t be out here all alone you’ll catch cold,” John continued, still using that slightly babyish I’m-talking-to-a-cat voice.

“JOHN DON’T I AM HAVING A CRISIS ABOUT THIS." 

"Better warm you up before we meet our visitor!”

“JOHN PLEASE I AM NOT A REAL CAT.”

It was no use begging, all John could hear was the awkward yodeling noise that cats make when mildly annoyed. He assumed Jesse was just a normal amount of uncomfortable, and started aggressively rubbing him down the way he liked.

“John stop, please…" 

Jesse couldn’t help starting to purr.

"Don’t…I can’t….argh I hate you…”

John smiled down at him oh so charmingly, making silly little shushing noises.

“God dammit…”

Jesse started to knead the air in front of him unconsciously.

“ _I love you so much,_ “ he finally admitted to himself.

Well fuck. How was he supposed to reconcile this with their friendship? At least as long as he was a cat, he could keep enjoying the physical contact. John would have to stay near him and would want to keep comforting him and protecting him, and Jesse could say whatever he wanted without fear of being understood, so he was free to express his feelings without worrying what John would think for now.

Yes. It would be ok for now, until things got back to normal. And then he’d have to work on it. Maybe. Eventually.

"All right you, I’ve got someone here for you to meet,” John said happily. He’d been walking while petting Jesse, and had nearly arrived back at the study. “With any luck, he’ll be able to help me put you right tonight.”

“Are you shitting me right now. No. John. I  _just realized_  I need to stay like this I have things to work through,” Jesse’s ears snapped back as John opened the study door to reveal another distinguished looking Englishman drawing symbols on the stone floor.

"I know, isn’t that wonderful?” John said cheerily. “Jesse, this is my friend Professor Davies, he’s going to help me cast a counter-spell to lift your curse. Edmund, this is Jesse.”

“Ah yes, a man with a bad case of  _cat,_  as you’ve said,” the professor commented, peering up from the floor. “Not to worry son, we’ll have you on your own two feet in no time.”

"I NEVER ASKED FOR THIS.”

Jesse clawed his way up onto John’s shoulders, struggling between a desire to get away and the need to stay near the man who meant so much to him.

“Ow!” John flinched as the tabby’s claws dug into his neck a little. “Come on friend, there’s no need for that, Edmund is a leader in his field. You’re in good hands!”

“YES HE LOOKS VERY COMPETENT. KEEP HIM AWAY.”

“Is that good meowing or bad meowing?” asked Davies, raising an eyebrow.

“Can’t be sure, I was too busy looking for a cure to find something to translate him,” John admitted, frustrated by Jesse’s behavior. “I’ve heard happier sounds out of him, though." 

With some difficulty, John lifted the protesting cat from his shoulders and set him down on the floor. Jesse crouched unhappily with his ears back and his tail between his legs, fluffed up with stress. John knelt down in front of him.

"Hey, Jesse, it’s ok,” he whispered kindly. 

“No it’s not,” Jesse whimpered, shaking his head a little so that the humans could understand. The look of concern on John’s face was absolutely melting him inside.

“Oh no, no, no, please don’t be frightened,” John reached out to place a hand on Jesse’s back, smoothing down the hackles. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I would  _never_  let anything happen to you.”

"You let him get turned into a cat,” Edmund said helpfully, checking his work against their notes. 

“You can shut right up,” John snapped at him. “That was not my fault, and I’m fixing it.”

“Speaking of, we’re all set,” replied the professor, snapping his notebook closed. “Pop him in the center and let’s get started.”

“Please don’t do this John, I’m not ready,” Jesse pleaded, starting to hyperventilate.

John lifted him up gently and carried him over to the pattern the professor had drawn on the floor. Jesse wanted to fight him off, to scratch at his hands until he let go and run for freedom, but he couldn’t hurt him. Not after all the loving care John had given him during this whole ordeal. Not after all the effort he’d put into fixing Jesse’s mistake. Jesse would have to turn back eventually, what would it really help to run away now? 

A tingle of magic charge raced through Jesse as his paws touched the floor. He stared up into John’s worried face, fidgeting but starting to accept that it was over.

“I love you, John,” he whispered. He had to say it while he still could. “I love you, I love you I love you I LOVE YOUUU! What am I supposed to do now???”

“Everything’s gonna be fine,” John said softly, stroking his ears one last time. “It probably won’t even hurt. I hope.”

“WAIT WHAT. I wasn’t even thinking about that don’t say that NOW I  **AM** SCARED FOR THE REASONS YOU THINK. THANKS.”

"Wow, that made him feel a lot better,” laughed Davies over the renewed yowling. “Truly you are the world’s greatest friend.”

“ _Truly I am starting to remember why I haven’t called you in years_ ,” John snarled. “Let’s get this over with.”

He stood and moved to the opposite side of the pattern from the professor, picking up a leather-bound book and flipping it open to a marked page. With a nod, the two of them began reading incantations aloud, sometimes in unison and sometimes alternating. Jesse’s fur crackled with electricity and he started to itch. The longer they continued the more uncomfortable he felt, as if an unwelcome force were probing and straining at his entire being. He shut his eyes against the harsh blue-white glow that began to emanate from the drawings on the floor. John had to resist the urge to peek up and check on him many times, ignoring the extremely worrisome noises he was making. He reminded himself that the only way to make those noises stop was to stay focused and do this right. He just wanted to see Jesse happy again. To get the old Jesse back.

Suddenly, like an elastic band that had been stretched and stretched until it reached its limit, the curse broke. Jesse shrieked as the walls seemed to rush toward him, the opposite of how they had rushed away when he’d first put on the pendant. This time, because he knew what was happening, he could hear the transition from a cat’s terrified howl to his own voice. This time, he could feel fingers shooting out of what had been paws, fur retracting into normal body hair, and limbs re-proportioning themselves so that he nearly fell on his face. He ended up kneeling on all fours, gasping for breath, trying to fill lungs that were suddenly many times larger than the amount of air they had held. 

John was by his side in an instant, throwing a blanket over his shivering form for warmth and privacy. 

“Jesse? How do you feel? Are you ok?” he asked in a rush, trying to get the blond to look at him.

Instead of answering, Jesse threw his arms around John’s shoulders and buried his face in the Brit’s neck, inhaling deeply through his nose. His sense of smell had been cut off sharply when he changed back, and he’d lost John’s scent. To him it was like someone had swapped the real John for a cardboard cutout. He took a few deep breaths, and the tension started to leave his body. His John was still with him. 

John cautiously hugged him back, petting his hair a little out of habit. “Are you ok, bro?” he asked again, more and more worried the longer Jesse went without replying. Jesse nodded, still holding on tightly. “Can you say something, please? I’ve gone nearly a week without hearing your voice chattering away, it feels really odd.”

“You’re such a jerk,” Jesse giggled, but refused to let go. 

“What? After all this?” John laughed heartily. “That’s what you’ve been saying in catspeak all along isn’t it! ‘Pet me John, I hate you so much! You’re a terrible person! Feed me!’ You ungrateful bastard!" 

"Maybe I did, you’ll never know,” Jesse retorted, secretly thankful that John would never know what he’d been saying. “You did feed me catfood and make me poop in a box.”

“And worked day and night to find a cure for the consequences of your own dumbassery!” John protested. “Tell me Jesse, what’s going to happen the next time I tell you not to touch something?”

“I am gonna sit on the floor in the middle of the room with my hands in my pockets until you come back,” Jesse said fervently.  _Because I trust you with my life_ , he added in his head. 

“There’s a good kitty,” John said with a grin, ruffling his hair. 

“You’d better go ahead and tell him the bad news too,” Edmund prompted. He was leaning back against the desk taking in the whole scene. “If you save it he’ll just feel like you lied to him later.”

“Oh. Right,” John looked a bit crestfallen. 

“What? What’s going on? You didn’t have to like, sacrifice a limb or something to save me, did you?” Jesse asked, frantically checking John over for signs of damage and thinking back to all the cartoons and stories he’d ever seen where magic exacted some kind of terrible price on those who used it. 

“No no, nothing like that. I think you need to watch less anime,” John assured him, with a bit of a sideways look. “Here’s the thing though, you notice how there isn’t an amulet around your neck right now?”

“Oh. Um. It wasn’t with my other clothes?”

John shook his head. “It’s gone. It’s part of you. And that means the curse will never be completely lifted.”

The color drained from Jesse’s face. “Oh. So what uh. What does…what happens then. What.”

“I’m so sorry Jesse, it’s because we weren’t quick enough. If we’d been able to perform this spell within 24 hours of the initial transformation, we could have gotten the amulet off and you’d be fine forever. We just didn’t know what it was.”

“John you’re not telling me what’s going to happen now.”

“A lot of magic is tied to the seasons and the cycle of the year,” John said hesitantly, “It is very probable that once a year, for the same days you were transformed the first time, you’re going to…turn back.”

“OH. Christ is that all? You were looking at me like I had a week to live or something,” Jesse sighed with relief. “A few days a year as a cat I can handle. Especially if um. If you’ll come over and take care of me? Make sure I don’t accidentally escape onto the streets of LA or something?”

This time it was John who blanched in fear, with horrible visions of an unmoving lump of orange fur on the side of the road by Jesse’s apartment.

“Absolutely. Yes. I’ll be there. Count on it.”

“Great. Well I guess you better show me where the guest room is? I presume that’s where my suitcase went. Now that I can finally use the stuff in it again, like clothes. And a toothbrush,” Jesse mused, poking at a lump of something unfortunate-tasting that was still stuck in his teeth. 

“Oh, of course. I guess you never actually slept there, did you? No reason not to tonight, I suppose,” a strangely unreadable look crossed John’s face. Or at least, one Jesse didn’t trust himself to read correctly. He tried not to think about it too hard while he said goodnight to Professor Davies and teetered away after John.

_______________________________________________________

**Epilogue: One Year Later**

“All right Jesse, it’s nearly midnight. If it’s going to happen it should be now. Are you ready?”

Jesse nodded, lying flat on his back in his own bed, twitching and scratching nervously. John was kneeling on the floor beside him, keeping one hand on the blond’s shoulder to help him feel a little more grounded. 

“The house is all set up,” Jesse said, trying to distract himself. They’d been over this dozens of times in the last few weeks. “Litter box is filled, there’s like eighty cans of tuna in the pantry, plenty of food and stuff for you so you won’t have to leave, toys and shit stashed everywhere. We’re set.”

“I really don’t think you need nearly that much tuna, it shouldn’t be more than four days.”

“I’m not taking any chances on  _should,”_  Jesse insisted for the hundredth time. “There will be NO KIBBLE. EVER AGAIN.”

John chuckled. “Hey I’ve been meaning to ask you, what was up with that evil eye you were giving Dodger on the last podcast? Has she done something to you?”

"What? Oh that,” Jesse looked puzzled for a moment before realizing what he was talking about. “No that wasn’t for her. Sherlock Cat was on her lap.”

“Pff so what are you, territorial? No other kitties better touch your friends?" 

"No, I,” Jesse blushed fiercely. “I was jealous, ok? I miss being petted,” his voice became very small and timid with embarrassment at the admission. “It feels really good.”

“Aw, well in that case I can pretty much promise you’re going to spend the next four days getting the absolute shit pet out of you, how does that sound?" 

“ _Awkward and graphic, actually_.”

"Not  _literally_  you prat!” John smacked him lightly in the arm. He glanced at the clock. It was eleven fifty nine. “I think it’s time, Jesse,” he whispered. “Do you feel all right?”

"Mostly. I’ve been kind of itchy all day but I’m not sure if that’s a real thing or just me thinking about it too haaargh,” Jesse convulsed slightly, doubling over and rolling onto his side.

“Jesse? Jesse!” John seized his shoulders and stood over him, peering into his contorted face. Jesse shook his head furiously.

“Back off back off don’t touch, this is—ah!—this is it  _this is the part_  that is not funnn! Gahh! AAAAHHHHHHREAOW!”

For the first time, John was able to see the transformation for himself, and his heart nearly leapt out of his chest. Jesse’s whole body seemed to wink out of existence, snapping inward to his center in a split second. His vacant clothing retained his shape for a brief moment, then fluttered down flat against the bed, save for one struggling lump right in the middle. 

Cautiously, John knelt on the bed and twitched the t-shirt aside. Jesse stood splay-legged and bushy inside it, staring back over his shoulder at John with his ears flat against his head and his eyes as round as marbles. 

"John?” he mewed. “OH GOD JOHN IT WAS SO DARK. I WAS SCARED.”

He flipped around and raced over to his friend, rubbing against his legs. 

“Whoop! Well hello again there, fuzzy,” John said with relief, scooching Jesse away so that he could sit down properly. Jesse immediately climbed into his lap and shoved his face into John’s hands. “Ha, I see you weren’t kidding about the petting.”

“Jesus Christ John you have no idea how desperately I’ve been waiting for this,” Jesse purred, kneading frantically. 

“Ah, here it comes, the meowed abuse,” John laughed at the stream of low grumbling yowls from Jesse. “Just as soon as I can’t understand you it’s all ‘John you’re a bastard’ and ‘why don’t you go die’, isn’t it?”

“I missed you so bad!”

 “‘You’re an evil tyrant, John!’” he pretended to translate, laughing and imitating the way Jesse was nuzzling into his palms.

“I can’t stand living without you!”

“‘How dare you come into my house and take care of me!’”

“I love you so much,” Jesse was too worked up to notice that John didn’t try to translate that one as an insult. “God, I love you, I LOVE YOU why is it so hard to say when I’m me? Why do I have to wait a year at a time to tell you how I feel? I’m such a coward, but I just want to be with you  _forever_  John. I’d rather spend my whole life as a cat than watch you go home on Saturday.”

John hadn’t said a word during this whole speech, he just kept rubbing Jesse’s ears more and more slowly, as the smile gradually faded from his face. Eventually he stopped petting altogether, and Jesse finally realized that something was wrong.

"John?” Jesse looked up to see him staring blankly back down. “What’s going on?”

“I’m just trying to think of the most tactful way to tell you that I came prepared this time, and I’m wearing a bracelet that lets me understand everything you say.”

Jesse’s ears snapped down again.  _Everything?_

“I’m sorry. It was supposed to be a joke, I thought you’d insult me, I…” John’s eyes filled with tears and he put his hand over his mouth. “You l-love me?”

“Yes,” Jesse admitted, huddling down and waiting for the hammer to fall, waiting for John to be horrified or disgusted or even just gently tell him no. No amount of kindness was going to make it hurt less. But John didn’t answer. Eventually Jesse dared to look up again.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Sorry, yeah. Now I’m trying to sort out whether kissing a cat is outside my comfort zone, because four days is kind of a long time to wait.”


	2. Use Your Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Porny Bit.

“John? You never said if you loved me back,” Jesse mewed with timid reproach. It was the first morning of his second transformation. John had come out to Jesse’s apartment to watch over him, and was now shuffling drowsily in from the kitchen with a large mug of coffee only to find the smaller, fluffier and oranger-than-normal version of his American friend fidgeting nervously on the couch. After having accidentally confessed his feelings for John the previous night, Jesse clearly had more to say. “I mean, you seemed kind of in favor of what I’d said at first, but then we just kind of let it drop. I was too relieved to push my luck, then, but…c’mon, bro, don’t leave me hanging.”

John sat down carefully next to him on the couch, staring straight ahead. He took a long gulp of coffee. The enchanted bracelet that allowed him to understand Jesse’s meowing was clearly visible on his wrist, so Jesse knew that the Brit had heard his plea. John exhaled heavily through his nose, in annoyance or defeat. Finally he turned to look down at his feline companion, with his mouth set in a flat, straight line.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think we should talk about it until you’re human again,” he said sternly. Jesse cowered slightly, pulling one front paw up toward his chest and lowering his ears to half-mast. “Oh no, don’t look like that…listen. I have no idea what you were saying to me all last time, I have no baseline for how you think as a cat. I don’t know if this curse affects you mentally. I don’t know if you’re thinking clearly, or if your feelings are genuine. All I know is that you’ve been a cat this time for about eight hours, for most of which we were both asleep, and you’ve already said something to me that you admit you wouldn’t have said as a human.”

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t mean it!”

“I can’t know that,” John said gently. “And the conversation we need to have is a very delicate one when it’s between old friends. You want to stay friends no matter what, right?”

Jesse nodded, which isn’t a movement that cats are really built for.

“Right,” John affirmed, with fresh, coffee-fueled confidence. “We’ll get it all sorted in a few days, then.”

“But…John?”

 The human’s eyes swiveled back down to meet the cat’s, over the rim of the coffee mug he’d just raised. He made a slightly questioning noise, which echoed in the mug.

“You slept with me last night. After I said it.”

The accusation in Jesse’s voice was very faint, but it was there.

“I’ve slept with you every night you’ve been a cat,” John countered, lowering his coffee and licking his lips.

“But before you didn’t  _know_ ,” insisted Jesse.

“Jesse, one way or another you’re still my best mate, and I came here to take care of you,” John began to wonder how cold his coffee would be before he was done explaining himself this morning. “I stayed with you last night because first of all you asked me to, and also for the same reasons as last year. I worry about you. I want to keep an eye on you. I don’t want you waking up alone and scared. Don’t try to tell me all that business with the twitching paws and the waking up suddenly three times a night hasn’t got anything to do with nightmares.”

Jesse conceded defeat. “Cats have pretty fucked up dreams, man.”

“Probably more likely  _people who have been cursed_  have pretty fucked up dreams, but it comes out the same in the end. Let’s table all this for now, then, eh?” He reached over to scratch Jesse behind the ears and dropped into a thicker northern accent than he naturally spoke with. “You get on wi’ bein’ a cat and down’t fret yer ‘ead abou’ et, ya furry bugger.”

“Unnnnnnnngh…” Jesse staggered under the weight of the enormous hand and the wonderful sensations it left in its wake. “This is what I’m talking about, though. Is this really a  _friend_  thing to do?”

“Aw, but you like it, and you make such a  _cute_  happy kitty.”

“Brooke’s cute and she likes foot-rubs, but if she told you she had a crush on you, would you still rub her feet?”

“I wouldn’t rub her feet anyway. I’ve seen Pulp Fiction.”

“She’s not married to a mob boss.”

“Marcellus Wallace isn’t—no, let’s not go off on that tangent. Put it this way, if you need an explanation: I’m allowing you a few very small benefits out of our friendship during this stressful time because you’re adorable and I think we could both do with the creature-comforts they provide. We both feel better if we sleep together, so we do it. You like to be pet and I like to pet you, so we do it. Don’t think too hard about it. We’ll get all the emotional bits sorted when you’re feeling yourself again, okay? I promise.”

“Did you just tell me to consider us ‘friends with benefits’ for the next four days?”

“…sure.”

“Deal,” Jesse purred, flopping down on the cushions and rolling over. “In that case, I demand belly-rubs.”

“Heh,” John chuckled, raising his coffee again while his other hand fondled the fluffy tummy that was presented to him, “Kitty-benefits.”

___________________________________________

For the remainder of Jesse’s “Time”, as John had started to call it, the two of them shared the apartment with relative ease, and didn’t mention that morning’s line of conversation again. There was a certain amount of mostly-sexual tension in the air, but, Jesse admitted to himself, not much more than there had been for the past year or so. Jesse continued to get plenty of ear-skritches and belly-rubs. He didn’t lie in John’s lap as often as he had the year before, though. Still, a few times every night he would snap awake in the feline equivalent of a cold sweat, to find John’s arm wrapped protectively around him, with all four of his paws—which had been twitching madly in his sleep—gripped softly in his friend’s hand.

“I feel like I’m about to Change again, John,” Jesse stated uneasily on the evening of the fourth day. The day before he’d turned back into a cat he’d been haunted by an itchiness, a pressure, and a vague feeling that his body was the wrong shape. A similar feeling was nagging at him now.

John expressed his relief at this sign that Jesse would be likely to return to normal without further outside assistance, and they made preparations.  John turned down the bed, changed the linens, put fresh towels in the bathroom, and, with a little help from Jesse, picked out some pajamas for him to slip into after re-assuming his normal form. He also slipped a small notebook containing the spells and notes he’d needed to bring Jesse back last time into his pocket, just in case.

“Could you, uh, kind of pull the blankets over me?” Jesse asked, nervously clawing at the sheets where John had set him on the bed.

“Why?”

“I’m naked, if you hadn’t noticed,” Jesse explained. “And I’ll be a lot more naked without the fur, so…?”

“I don’t really think it’s a good idea for you to Change in a closed space, Jesse.”

“It’s just blankets! I’m not hiding in a kitchen cupboard!”

“Do I need to give you a lecture in physics? You could still strain your neck or back or any number of things. Anything is like concrete if you hit it hard enough.”

The discussion on whether a few sheets were enough to cause grievous bodily harm consumed most of the remaining minutes before midnight. In the end, they agreed to leave the covers off; John would shut his eyes when told to and be ready to hand Jesse a spare blanket— _without peeking_ —so that he could cover himself. An awkward silence settled after the decision was reached. Both of them glanced around the room, trying very hard to be interested in something else. John eventually broke the tension, or at least dented it a little, by reaching over to scratch Jesse’s ears. Jesse leaned into his hand, purring, but the peace was short-lived.

“OHSHITFUCK HERE IT COMES  _SHUT YER DAMN EYES!_ ”

John leapt back from the screeching cat and scrambled for the blanket he was supposed to be holding at the ready. He ended up on his knees by the bed, turning back toward the sound of shrieking, suddenly remembering not to look, turning away again and screwing his eyes shut with the blanket held up like a shield—and then something went  _whoomph_  and instead of shrieking there was only very shaky panting and a hacking cough.

“Jesse? How’d it go?” John hadn’t wanted to burden his friend with extra worries, but there was a chance that such an unaided transformation could go terribly wrong. If it had, John would need to know right away so that he could mitigate the effects.

He’d expected the answer to be inarticulate. Some kind of grunt or moan, at best.

What he hadn’t expected was to have a burly pair of arms clamped around his neck as a large, naked, frightened man quite literally pounced on him from the high-ground of the bed and knocked him soundly on his ass. John reflexively put his arms around Jesse on impact, which fortunately wrapped him in the blanket. “Fortunately” because it was also reflex to open his eyes and  _look_  at his attacker. Hopefully Jesse couldn’t object to John seeing his bare shoulders, under the circumstances.

“Ohai,” John coughed, after managing to get a little wind back in his lungs. “Feeling better?”

Jesse nodded, perhaps-not-accidentally burying his face more deeply in John’s neck.

“Have we remembered how to use our words yet?” John coached.

“No,” Jesse said with deadpan irony. “Forgot permanently.”

“That’s too bad,” John replied, trying to keep a straight face. He sniffed. Ah. Four days of unwashed Cox, that’s what that smell is. “I don’t suppose you’ve also forgotten how to bathe?”

Shaking with silent laughter, Jesse pulled back to where John could see him, licked the side of his hand, and wiped it down his face. Then he tried to do the same thing to John.

“EW!” John shoved him away. “Off with ye, ye filthy bastard. Go and wash yourself, and see if you can remember what a toothbrush is for while you’re at it.”

_________________________________________

When Jesse returned from the bathroom, slightly damp but smelling much nicer, he was dressed only in a towel. After the way things had played out over the last few hours, it had seemed to him that John was still planning on “later” as being a good time to have that delicate conversation Jesse was waiting for. So, Jesse had expected his room to be empty, and hadn’t bothered to properly clothe himself. He stopped dead on the threshold when he spotted John sitting patiently on the edge of the bed.

_That’s what you get for making assumptions, idiot,_  he thought to himself, then added,  _Shut up, brain_.

“Feeling a bit more human?” John asked in a valiant attempt to keep that awkward silence from making another appearance.

“I don’t know,” Jesse’d had enough. “How human do I have to be before my feelings are valid?”

John looked hurt, but not enough to be a patch on how Jesse was feeling by now.

“Save it,” Jesse said before John could offer a defense of his actions. “We’ve been playing elephant-in-the-room for a fricking week and I’m done. I need an answer.”

“…I need to hear it again,” John said, barely above a whisper.

“Serioulsy?”

“The whole point, of the waiting,” John went on, not able to meet Jesse’s thunderous gaze, “Was so that I could hear it for myself, without a translator, not clouded by layers of magic, some of which was malicious in design,” He made eye contact again at last. “If you didn’t mean it, if you really didn’t mean to say it, this is your chance to make it like it never happened. Wipe it off the books. Nothing changes. But if you meant it…say it again.”

Jesse’s heart pounded in his chest, inspired to hope by the plea in John’s eyes. He crossed the room and knelt on the carpet between his friend’s feet.

“John…” he took one of the Brit’s hands in both of his own and held it to his face. “I love you. I’m  _in love_  with you, I’m crazy about you. I don’t even know how long it’s been that way, but I’ve been sure of it for a  _year_. I  _need_  you. And I need to know what you think about that.”

He’d expected the answer to be articulate. A long, elegantly-phrased list of reasons why his best friend did or did not want to make their relationship into something more.

What he hadn’t expected was to have a warm, soft pair of lips crushed enthusiastically to his own, as a large, British, and very excited man used the high-ground of the bed to make out with him in a surprisingly dominant fashion. Jesse was briefly distressed by the impression that his face was being devoured, but quickly decided that it was being done in the best possible way.

“Who’s forgetting how to use his words now, huh?” Jesse gasped, finally gaining and inch to breathe. Although he hadn’t been fighting very hard for one.

“A  _year_ ,” John laughed, resting his forehead against Jesse’s and punctuating his sentences with more kisses. “A  _year_  and you think you’ve suffered. Five! Five, you asshole! I thought you were straight! I didn’t dare! Five years I didn’t dare say a thing!”

“Say it now, John,” Jesse nudged him back, nose to nose, so that he could see his face. “If you can insist then so can I. Say it.”

“Jesse, I love you. I’ve been in love with you for ages and I damn well wish you’d said something sooner,” John’s features sagged as a thought occurred to him. “I have to fly home tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

You could almost hear the wheels turning in both of their heads. They glanced at one another surreptitiously, each wondering if the other’s wheels were turning in the same direction as his own.

“Er, Jesse, I don’t mean to rush you,” John ventured, “I don’t know if…if you like to have a certain number of dates or whatever before, ah…”

“It could be a months before we’re together again,” Jesse supplied.

“Yes.”

“And we’ve already been close friends for a long time.”

“Yes.”

“We’ve even spent the night cuddling before.”

“Seven times, by my count. You were naked, even.”

“John,” Jesse decided that clear communication was probably important at this point. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

“Put it to you this way,” John, on the other hand, was sassy and oblique to the last. “D’you have any idea how many lovers I’ve offended in the last five years by calling out your name in bed?”

“Oh my god, really?”

“Three very promising boyfriends actually dumped me for it.”

“Three?? What are you, a slow learner?”

“I couldn’t seem to stop,” John blushed beet red at the memory, but he was clearly trying not to laugh. “It didn’t matter how many goddamn awkward conversations it led to, I just kept yelling ‘Jesse!’ at the back of people’s heads or into pillows. I think I claimed I had Tourette’s Syndrome, once,” he recalled, placing his chin in his hands and staring wistfully at the ceiling. “That didn’t go over at all well.”

“Oh, god,” Jesse laid his head on John’s knee, giggling at the idea of the dignified Brit trying to claim that his tactless cries were part of a mental disorder that had doubtless failed to manifest itself in any moment other than orgasm. Then he thought about John having orgasms and crying his name. “John. Let’s fuck.”

Helped along by John’s eager hands pulling him up, but hindered somewhat by the mutual attempt to keep their mouths together, Jesse managed to scramble onto the bed. He ended up lying full-length on top of his intended partner. It occurred to him that this was something else that might need communicating about.

“Wait, time out, time out,” Jesse propped himself up on his arms. John’s face below him clearly stated that while he had some patience left now, it was most definitely finite in supply. “Um. I’ve never exactly been a thousand percent straight, but, uh, this is the first time I’ve gotten farther with a man than looking at him. I don’t—I don’t even know the etiquette. Please help.”

“Etiquette?” a smile twitched at the corner of John’s mouth.

“How do you decide who gets to…uh…?”

“Who’s top and who’s bottom, you mean?”

“…yes?”

“Subtle hints are usually dropped,” John said, rolling his eyes.  _Such as hauling you bodily on top of myself and throwing my legs around your waist, but I guess you don’t speak that language_. “I suppose it’ll be up to me to teach you to crack the code later, but for now I’ll put it in English. Dear Jesse: Please Fuck Me Into Tiny Little Pieces, Love John,” he sat up and stripped off his shirt for emphasis. “Clear enough?”

“I think I get the drift,” Jesse replied, frantically trying to get John’s pants unbuttoned. “Where do I send my RSVP for that delightful invitation?”

“You’re headed there.”

John’s jeans hit the floor with a loud, clothy  _fwump_ , followed by two little thuds from his balled-up socks, and the almost-soundless  _swish_  of his boxers. And one big wet  _FWAP_  of towel.

“Merciful lord, is that all you?” John’s gaze was riveted on Jesse’s groin, where the evidence of his arousal was standing up proudly for inspection.

“Yes? Who else would it be?”

“It’s just…it’s huge.”

“It’s not  _that_  big.”

“Look, though!” John scooted them together, base-to-base. “I’m on the high end of average myself, and  _look_  at you!”

“No, come on,” Jesse was blushing pretty badly, but John had other things on his mind. “That’s like an inch more, at most.”

“An inch is a lot when it’s inside you, love.”

“John,” the embarrassment in his voice was finally enough that John actually looked up at his face, and noticed the worry he’d caused there. “Is it too big? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“With this gorgeous thing? Never,” John smiled and wrapped his fingers around both shafts, pressing them together. Jesse gasped. John rolled his hips slightly in hopes of hearing that delicious sound again.

What he got was much better. What he got was Jesse’s full weight pressing him down into the mattress and a king-size cock sliding eagerly and smoothly against his own, while the man he’d wished he could have for years moaned sweetly in his ear. Dear lord, it was so good. If they’d had even one more night to spend together, he would have kept it going and come just like that, warm and easy and sharing evenly. But time was a luxury they didn’t have.

“Careful, now, or we won’t make it to the party,” John panted after a few minutes that were over much too quickly. “Lube?”

Jesse fished some out of the drawer in his nightstand, and John breathed a sigh of relief. They still could have had a very satisfying night without it, but he  _really_ wanted Jesse inside him. Finding out what had been hiding in his pants all along hadn’t done a thing to cool the lust that had been simmering at the back of John’s mind all this time.

“Now, to clarify what I said before,” John explained, taking the tube and flipping open the cap, “You’re not going to hurt me with that great big beautiful cock because I’m going to make sure you don’t. Precautions are in order,” he squeezed a dollop of the clear gel onto his fingers. “And since it’s been a while since I’ve gotten any and you’ve never given any, I’ll take care of them this time. Don’t worry, though,” he winked, “I’ll teach you this bit next time.”

Jesse sat back on his heels and watched John prepare himself. The whole picture seemed surreal. This was John, his best friend and coworker, a man who could spend hours on end playfully ranting at him over a videogame from halfway around the world…and here he was, lying naked in Jesse’s bed. The dim light of the bedside lamp created interesting patterns of shadow and highlight on his alabaster skin, on which a fine sheen of sweat was just beginning to show. His legs were spread open wide, with one hand on his own very shapely cock and the other diving unabashedly lower, fingers disappearing in quick strokes into that secret space to which Jesse had been invited. And John was  _smiling_  at him, with passion and desire glinting darkly in his eyes.

Lord, he was so hot.

John touched himself ever more urgently, staring up in wonder at this man who had finally come to him, unbidden. God, if he had only known! How many times, especially in the last year, how many times had he bitten back a comment, refrained from putting a too-friendly arm around those warm shoulders at a convention, and gone to bed alone? He could have had this! They could have had more! God, if he had known! He would have booked more days for this trip, that’s for certain.

A gentle hand caressed his knee, and he reopened his eyes. Jesse was looking down at him with concern; John realized he must have been scowling. That wouldn’t do. He cleared his expression and passed the lube to Jesse.

“Nearly ready,” he assured the blond. The huskiness of his own voice surprised him.

But  _then_  he saw Jesse take himself in hand, saw that extra-large organ that was currently at the center of his world glistening and ready to take its place at the center of his body, saw the way Jesse shivered with lust at his own touch, and the only thing that surprised him was that he managed to hold back his orgasm for the moment. With a loud groan, he withdrew his fingers and flung his arms wide.

“Take me.”

Jesse was more than happy to comply.

John had prepared himself thoroughly, just in case. Jesse was not only well-endowed but also inexperienced, a possibly painful combination, and John would rather not spend their entire first time giving directions on how not to  _literally_ destroy an asshole. There would be time for that later. So, he’d made himself ready for however brutal of a fuck he was about to receive.

Imagine his shock, then, at the tender embrace his Jesse wrapped him in, the soft kisses placed against the base of his neck, and, most of all, at the long, slow, gentle slide of rock-solid silky-smooth heaven into his most intimate entrance. For the second time in minutes, he only just managed not to come on the spot.

“Oh…oh, Jesse…” he held his lover against him with eager arms and willing legs. “Is that all of it?” he asked, noting that Jesse had stopped moving forward.

“No, silly,” Jesse panted. “Even ladies don’t like it all at once,” he was acutely aware of the uniquely tight ring of muscle clamped slightly more than halfway down his cock, and fought against the instinct to plunge ahead fully into what lay beyond. John deserved a proper loving.

With small, careful thrusts, he gained just a little ground at a time until he was up to his balls in that butter-soft warmth. So deep. So deep inside of John. John, who had always been there for him. John, who had flown thousands of miles to look after him. John, who was full of surprises, like owning an ancient estate and knowing how to reverse curses.

John, who was carefully flexing his rectum to massage Jesse’s cock  _just so_.

“Fuck, Jesse!” praise and instructions, wrapped into one comment.

Jesse apparently had no idea where to find a prostate, or probably what it was for anyway, but in this moment John found that the sheer enthusiasm of Jesse’s thrusting was more than enough. Again, he didn’t care to coach in such an important moment. All he wanted in the world was to lie back and feel the big warm body in his arms heaving against him faster and faster, plunging impossibly deep inside him, fulfilling his most secret dreams. He listened raptly to the desperate moans, felt his heart thump a little harder every time Jesse held him a little tighter, and gasped at the feeling of his bones melting every time Jesse accidentally found a better angle.

“Oh, John, I’m gonna—nopeIliedit’shappeningnow  _fuck I’m coming!_ ”

John nearly laughed at the incoherent declaration, but he was too distracted by the warmth flowing into him and the desperate grip on his shoulders.

“Ohhh, lovely,” he sighed instead, slipping his hand in between them to take care of his own neglected member. He didn’t mind Jesse getting off first one bit, but now he wanted to get his while the memory was fresh.

“Hey..hey stop that…” Jesse mumbled breathlessly, batting John’s hand away.

“You’re not going to  _deny_  me?” John said incredulously.

“No,” Jesse propped himself up enough to watch John’s face. “A gentleman never leaves his partner to fend for himself.”

“Aha,” John smiled as Jesse’s hand replaced his own. “We’ll just see how long you can stick to that philosophy, then, but I’m—oh god, yes—I’m rooting for you.”

______________________________________________

In what felt like seconds, but also felt like all eternity (but was probably closer to seconds, anyway), John had followed Jesse through to the other side of climax, and the two remained lying in a boneless heap on the bed. Jesse tried to roll off to the side, but John stopped him.

“No, stay,” he insisted. “I’ve got to imprint this memory. It needs to last.”

Jesse nestled in more comfortably. “Yeah, that’s kind of the other reason I didn’t speak up. Even if you wanted me it’d be hella long distance. That’s what skype is for, I guess.”

“Skype ends with me going to sleep all alone in my big stupid cold house with a distinct lack of sore bum.”

“Is it sore?” Jesse was instantly concerned. “I’m sorry, I tried to be—“

“Shush, you, you were gentle as a kitten,” John reassured him.

“Isn’t the saying ‘gentle as a lamb’?”

“You don’t turn into a sheep once every twelve months,” John countered. “And yes, it will probably twinge a bit tomorrow, but don’t think I’m not going to treasure that souvenir. It’ll remind me this was real. Although I may be less inclined to thank you for it towards the end of that fourteen hour plane ride.”


	3. Calling Long Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oops I Lied, This Bit Is Also Porny.

“Dammit, Jesse, pick up!” Dodger grumbled at her computer, getting heartily sick of Skype’s standard ringback tone. She’d been chatting with John for several minutes and they’d started discussing podcast business. Jesse ought logically to be included. Skype showed him as online, but no matter how many times she called, he didn’t answer.

“Here, maybe he doesn’t realize it’s, er, business, since it’s you calling,” John suggested. “Let me try.”

“Why wouldn’t it be business just because it’s me?” she protested. Jesse’s blatant call-screening was pissing her off pretty bad. “I work with him as much as you do. And that didn’t sound like what you meant to say, either.”

John tried to think of an explanation quickly. Damn, he’d hoped she would miss it when he’d stumbled over the word “business”. What he’d really meant was “important”, but that would have implied that a call from John was more important than a call from Brooke, and then she might guess—

“Helloooooo, BabyeeEAUOH SHIT!”

When John called, Jesse answered. It only took him about five seconds to realize he was in a group call that included Dodger, though, and a further three to find the button to disconnect again.

Brooke stared into her screen in confused horror for several long, uncomfortably silent moments while John’s face got worrisomely red.

“Did…um…was he…?” she finally managed.

“Naked,” John croaked. “Yes, I think so.”

“And there were…”

“Candles.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know?” John lied.

“He picked up when you called him.  _Naked. With candles_.”

“Er…”

“What kind of sick fucking joke was that? I mean come on man, there’s a line! A little silly flirting is one thing, but  _really_?”

“Well, ah…” Skype started to ring before John could get very far into that sentence, and he clicked the notification hastily, praying for salvation.

Jesse’s muffled laughter could be heard before his image had even resolved on the screen. Mercifully, he’d pulled on some sweats, turned on the lights, and doused the candles.

“What did I tell you?” He laughed, shaking his finger at John. “What did I fucking tell you? Two things! Before you even got back on the plane!” he dropped into his rough Bronx Bum voice as he recounted them. “Foist ting: we’s gonna hafta tell Brooke, heres. Second ting: we needs separate accounts fa bisniss and poisonals onna Skypes. It just aint’ gonna woik othawise.”

“You may have said that,” John conceded, staring awkwardly at the ceiling. He wished now that he’d listened, at least about the separate Skype accounts.

“Wait, what?” Dodger felt like she was several pages behind the rest of the class. “What just happened?”

“Do you want to tell it?” Jesse asked John, still grinning with embarrassment. The camera had been pointed mostly at his face when he’d answered the first time, but still. The display had very definitely not been meant for her eyes.

“Not even a little bit,” John replied, now looking at his desk rather than his screen. “You go ahead, though, no turning back now I suppose.”

“Right, Brooke, so you know how TB came out to my house a couple weeks ago and just kind of hung out?”

“No? TB was here?”

“Oh no that’s right, we didn’t tell anybody,” Jesse covered. He kicked himself for forgetting that they’d kept it a secret, but of course it had been important that nobody try to make plans with them that week. As amusing as the idea of a kitty play-date with Sherlock and Watson might be in theory, there was no way in hell he was going to a) tell Dodger THAT part of the story, or b) allow John to take him across town in a pet carrier. “We kept it to ourselves because we had stuff to talk about. Um, pretty important stuff, and turns out we were on the same page, so…we’re officially dating.”

“You WHAT??”

“I mean, not like public-announcement officially, but I knew we’d need to tell you at least, and—“

“Dating? Like, actually  _dating_? Are you sure?”

Jesse laughed at her; clearly he’d blown her mind. “No, Brooke, I’m not sure,” he said sarcastically. “I kind of think  _maybe_  John came and stayed with me for a week and  _maybe_  I blurted out something I didn’t mean to say and  _maybe_  it turned out he felt the same way about me and MAYBE on the last night—“

“THAT BIT IS NOT FOR TELLING FRIENDS,” John interrupted.

Dodger pulled an exaggerated face, eyes wide, frown straining, and leaned wayyy back in her chair. “None of my business anyway,” she stated. TB’s reaction had told her more than she needed to know, really.

John coughed delicately. “Well. That’s, er, settled then. Back to business?”

___________________________________

Another day, another Skype call…

“What are you drinking, John?”

“Irish Whiskey,” John answered, setting the glass aside with an appreciative sigh. “Don’t judge me, it’s cold here.”

“I can see that, I think your nipples could cut glass right now,” Jesse retorted. “Just don’t get carried away and get whiskey-dick on me, that wouldn’t be any fun.”

John gave him a flabbergasted look over the webcam, but didn’t quite know what to say to that. On the one hand, it was insulting. On the other, it heavily implied that Jesse wanted to watch him come. Of course, the fact that they were both sitting nude in front of their computers in softly-lit rooms and using the special Skype accounts they’d set up for this purpose also implied that pretty heavily.

“It’s not  _that_  cold,” he eventually managed to sputter. “I’ve even got a space heater, after last time. And that little gift you sent me arrived, as well.”

He held a small squeeze-bottle up to his cam. Jesse laughed, recognizing it as the “warming sensations” lubricant he’d ordered off the internet for John. True, the Brit lived in the north of England, and, true, his house was insulated with all of the latest technology of the 18th century, and it was currently very much the dead of winter. But if John was going to complain all the time, he could expect to be properly teased for it. If he kept it up he’d be getting a Snuggie in the mail, next.

“Well, are you going to try it out, or just sit there until you get icicles on your nuts?”

“You’re terrible,” John grinned, dribbling a little of the oily lube on his fingers. His hands disappeared out of the frame. “Oooooh, love,” he sighed, eyes drifting half-shut. “I think you thought you were making fun of me when you bought that, but, to borrow your favorite word, that is  _wonderful_.”

“Yeah?” Jesse’s grin softened around the edges. He could feel a lot of blood rushing to his groin, just at the sight of John’s enraptured face, but he wasn’t going to touch himself until his beloved asked him to. “Tell me about it.”

“Mmm, so warm, almost like…” he stopped himself with a chuckle. “Well, I wouldn’t know, would I? But I can  _imagine_ , it’s almost like being inside you.”

 _That_  got Jesse hard so fast he actually smacked the underside of his desk. He still didn’t dare touch. It was all part of the game.

“Did you hit the desk again?” John said with a knowing look, noticing the flinch.

“Yes.”

“You like the sound of that, do you? You want me  _inside_  you?” John tightened his own fist on himself, watching the almost painful longing in Jesse’s eyes. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you, John. I wanna give you what you gave me,” he was almost trembling now with the effort of keeping his hands off. “I know you’ll be good to me. I know you’ll show me what love feels like. I want you to claim me.”

“Yes!” John shouted. One bonus to living in a massive manor in the middle of a field was that there were no neighbors to offend. “Touch it! Pleasure yourself for me!”

Jesse seized himself with paradoxical relief and urgency. “Claim me!” he repeated, pumping furiously, “Take me, John! Give me what I gave you! Show me how it feels!”

“Yes!”

“Show me how good it can be!”

“YES!”

“You’re probably better at it than I am anyway!”

“Don’t change the subject!” John giggled a little, momentarily derailed by the self-deprecating humor. “You were very good for an amateur!”

“I need lessons!”

“I can do that!”

“Teach me!”

“Yes!”

“Take me!”

“YES!”

“Make me yours!”

“MINE!!” John roared, then convulsed so hard that his face almost disappeared entirely from the screen. He drifted back slowly into frame, letting out a series of small moans to accompany each pulse of ejaculate. He then looked directly into his camera and said, breathlessly, with all his heart, “I love you.”

Jesse came undone at the sound of those words, said so sincerely by one so dear to him. He whimpered, helpless, and John swore that some of the semen shot so high he could see it over Skype.

For a moment nothing was said. They both sat panting, trying to get hold of their breath as well as their wits.

“I miss you,” Jesse said finally. “I miss you so damn much.”


	4. (Booty) Calling Long Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not Actually Porny Just Fluff I Promise

John stared at his skype window and grumbled under his breath. It was bad enough that Jesse was halfway around the world all the time without him going off the grid for days. Well, day. The American hadn’t responded to any kind of communication in over 24 hours. John had texted, called, and sent countless “I know you’re there, why are you invisible” messages over skype. It wasn’t like Jesse to screen him, what the hell was he doing? Could he possibly be having second thoughts about this? About them?

Grumpily, he rolled his chair back from the desk and got up, heading for the kitchen to get a snack. Fretting about it wouldn’t help if Jesse wasn’t going to talk to him. Hopefully in a few hours he’d find an email or something with a long, detailed explanation of how Jesse had been out with friends, lost his phone…and…forgot his skype password? Yeah, sure. Better get a stiff drink to go with that snack. 

On his way through the halls, a booming knock echoed up from the front door. He frowned. There was no staff of servants constantly in the house, just a couple of maids and gardeners who’d stop by a few times a week between them, and none of them were due in today. With an annoyed grunt, he veered sharply from his path and trotted down the main staircase to the front door. He supposed he didn’t look much like the Lord of the Manor in his carpet slippers, old jeans, battered hoodie and Starcraft hat, but he couldn’t be bothered to care much. 

He flung the door open wide and looked out with the most regal and disdainful face he could manage, hoping that whoever it was would be discouraged and bugger off quickly. The disdain, however, melted almost instantly when he saw who it was. 

He had to blink a couple of times to be sure he was seeing correctly.

[Blink] The massive grin was still there. [Blink] And the hipster glasses, and the scarf, and the trademark ginger beard with the little hole in it and  ** _holy shit what_**.

John’s brain shut down. After taking less than a second to process what he was seeing, conscious thought went on holiday and he just  _leapt._  

“Mmmnglrph!” was what became of Jesse’s attempt to say “Hi sweetie!” as he was hauled by the collar into a kiss that had a lot to say about the months they’d just spent apart. He giggled a little bit into the mouth that assaulted him and settled his arms around the younger man’s shoulders, partly in apology for the shock he must have given him by turning up. He decided that anything he had to say could wait until John came up for air.

“Okay first I have a question for you,” Jesse interjected as soon as his tongue was free, holding up a finger to forestall all of the very reasonable things John might want to ask him. 

“Wh…yes?”

“I had to have some help from Brooke to get out here without completely ruining my schedule, and I promised her that in return I’d send her a picture of the look on your face when I showed up. Except I couldn’t  _get_  a picture of your face before you did this with it,” he held up his phone, showing a side-angle photo of the kiss they’d just shared. “Can I send her this?" 

John laughed weakly and buried his face in Jesse’s chest. "Um. Sure,” he said, blushing. It was a very cute picture, with Jesse giving a little half-smile and looking very satisfied with the results of his plan, and John seizing him in a fit of passionate joy. “Just. Er. Promise me that’s where the line will be drawn, as far as sharing things that are a bit intimate.”

“Of course, baby doll, I wouldn’t dare send anything naughtier than a little smooch.”

John nuzzled in a little closer while Jesse sent off the text, reveling in the unexpected gift of his presence when all day he’d thought–

“OH GOD. Have you checked your voicemail?” John asked, suddenly panicked. 

“No?”

“Give me your phone I need to delete some things that you don’t ever need to hear.”

Jesse glanced at the new message count before handing it over. “Jeezus, honey, are those all from you? What happened?”

“You wouldn’t answer, so I thought you were screening me,” John mumbled sheepishly, deleting all the voicemails and texts that had come from him. “I got a bit jealous-boyfriend-mode, I’m sorry. What are you doing here, anyway?”

“I missed you.”

John looked up, looking starstruck enough to be in a romantic comedy.

“Just for me?” he whispered, a smile creeping up on him. “No business to do?”

“Oh, I’ve got lots of business to do,” Jesse said smugly. He started counting off tasks on his fingers. “I need to hug John, and kiss John, and cuddle with John, and waste time on the couch with John, and have a quadruple assload of sex with John, I mean really, my schedule is very full I don’t know  _when_  I’m going to find time to sleep.”

John laughed.  _“Quadruple_  assload?” he questioned. “Are you planning to invite two more people?”

“No, I just plan on having enough sex for four.”

With that, Jesse gently shoved his giggling boyfriend back into the house, and closed the heavy front doors of the mansion behind them. 


	5. Happy Annipurrsary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember how Jesse's a cat sometimes? It's that time again.

John and Jesse laid in bed together, just cuddling a little as they drifted off to sleep. Jesse had his head on John’s chest and was already snoring slightly. John, however, was having trouble relaxing. Something was eating at the back of his mind and he couldn’t put his finger on it. 

Suddenly it hit him.

“SHIT! Jesse, wake up!”

“Mmmmmnphhh…” Jesse grumbled sleepily, brow furrowing in displeasure.

“Jesse I’m serious  _it’s Friday wake your ass up_.”

"So? S’been Friday all day, who cares.”

“ _No you do not understand IT IS FRIDAY_. I thought it was Thursday but it’s not it’s Friday, Jesse, our anniversary is tomorrow!”

“yaaaaaaay good for us…” Jesse mumbled without enthusiasm.

“You  _do remember_  what happens on our anniversary, right? That thing with the fur and the whiskers and the tail?”

"Yeah, which is tomorrow, so if you don’t mind I’d like to spend one more night cuddling with my boyfriend while I’m still the same size as him." 

"Tomorrow starts at midnight, Jesse, which is in about two minutes.”

Jesse’s eyes finally snapped open. “WHAT???? YOU MEAN IT’S TONIGHT?? NO NO NO I’M NOT READY!”

“Shhh, hey, it’s ok, we’re ready,” John assured him. “It’s not like we didn’t know it was coming; I had to fly to America for this for fuck’s sake. I just wanted to make sure you were awake and mentally prepared to change.”

“But I’m not, dammit, I don’t wanna,” Jesse pouted, suddenly very aware of that all-over itch that foretold of what was to come. “I haven’t seen you in forever, I haven’t  _held_  you in forever. I’m not ready.”

"It’s ok, sweetheart, it’ll pass. We’ve already been through this twice,” he stroked the older man’s hair comfortingly, struggling to keep breathing through the crushing embrace Jesse now had him in. “I’ll take good care of you, don’t you worry. Now c’mere and give us a kiss while you can, love.”

Jesse slammed into his face and practically glued himself there, grabbing the back of John’s head and aggressively making out with him with much clacking of teeth and very little room to breathe. After a few moments and a lot of gently pushing his distressed lover back a few inches John managed to calm him down a bit and turn Jesse’s frenzied tongue-wrestling into something more sedate and tender. 

Eventually Jesse pulled away and glanced worriedly at the clock-radio by the bed. He made a distinctly feline growling noise and slunk backwards to lay on his side, facing John.

“Hey. I love you. You’re gonna be fine,” John repeated.

“I love you too,” Jesse whispered.

And then he winked out of sight, leaving a Jesse-shaped cave of blankets that slowly collapsed. Sad mewing could be heard from within. Gingerly, John reached over and lifted the edge of the covers. Two little round, gleaming eyes were peering back at him from the darkness. 

“Hey baby,” he said softly, with a smile. “It’s ok, come on up here. You’re ok.”

The cat shuffled toward him, not bothering to stand up and walk but rather crawling like a soldier under wire. He pressed his face into John’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled up to the Brit’s chest for a very gentle hug. He was shaking a little, and breathing very fast. He meowed loudly. John stared at him in slight confusion.

“Oh, crap, that’s what’s wrong,” John said, “I didn’t realize it was tonight so I didn’t wear the bracelet to bed. Do you want me to go and get it now so I can understand you, or stay with you and get it in the morning?”

Jesse nestled tightly into John’s chest and wrapped his paws around the man’s arm, pulling it closer and seeming to say that he’d rather have John stay right where he was, thank you very much. John laughed softly and rubbed Jesse’s ears.

“All right, love. It’s over on the dresser if you need to tell me anything during the night, ok? Try and get some sleep. I’ve got you.”

********************************************************************************

Jesse purred loudly, kneading on John’s thigh while the Brit scratched his ears absentmindedly, paying more attention to the movie he was watching than to his curse-afflicted boyfriend in his lap. 

“OW!” John cried out suddenly, flinching as one of Jesse’s claws inadvertently scratched his leg. “Hey! These are nice pants, man, cut that out.”

“Aw but I love you,” Jesse rolled onto his back playfully. “Don’t you love me too?”

John’s momentary fury melted away. The little furball really had a way of getting to him, even if he was a grown man 361 days of the year. “‘Course I do, man, without you when would I ever get to do  _this?”_

He quickly scooped the tabby into his arms, ruffling his ears and burying his face in the soft belly-fur, making snarling noises.

“BWAH! AHAHAHAA NONONO!” Jesse protested, “JESUS I CANNOT EVEN EXPLAIN WHAT THAT FEELS LIKE HAAAAA NO STAAAAHP!" 

John suddenly stopped and sat up, pausing for a moment with an odd look on his face before turning away to sneeze violently several times.

"Worth it,” he grinned, aggressively smoothing down all the fur he’d disturbed.

“This is why I don’t let you get a real pet.”

“No, that’s because you don’t want to spend all year being jealous that you don’t fit on my lap.”

“Hmph. My lap. No trespassing,” Jesse huddled down tightly, prompting another small laugh and some more ear-scritches from John. He laid down on the couch and maneuvered Jesse onto his chest to continue watching the movie. 

**********************************************************************

“JESSE, NO!” John bolted after him, chasing him several yards down the hallway before managing to grab him by the hind legs. Jesse struggled mightily, trying to claw, bite, and wriggle his way free, blinded by instinctive behavior. Bleeding slightly but determined, John hung on, holding him to his chest and gently shushing and soothing the frightened animal until he regained his senses.

“John?” Jesse panted, sniffing his familiar scent. “What happened?”

“You ran out the door,” John explained, blinking back tears of relief. “God I was so scared you’d make it out of the building, don’t  _do_  that,  _don’t fucking do that you scared the shit out of me_.” 

"Aw, fuck!” Jesse slapped his paws onto either side of John’s face and hooked his claws into the man’s beard—the closest he could come to a hug in this form. “I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry, you know I didn’t mean to!”

“It’s ok, Jesse, I forgive you,” John’s eyes fell closed as he let Jesse rub his face against his cheeks, “It’s ok.”

**************************************************************************

“Food food food food FOOOOOOOD!”

“Christ I get it! Leave me alone!” John had to maneuver very carefully from one side of the kitchen to the other, trying to get the can of tuna to the can opener without stepping on the serpentine mass of orange that seemed to be perpetually under whichever foot he had off the ground. 

“Food!”

“I know!”

“Food!”

“I’m on it!”

“Fooooood!”

“HANG ON A DAMN MINUTE!”

Frustrated but having finally gotten the tuna open, John turned to empty the can into Jesse’s bowl, taking a half step back without thinking. Something very small, round, and furry came between the heel of his shoe and the tile floor.

The resultant agonized screech made him leap straight up in the air, heart skipping a beat and tuna nearly flying into the sink. He looked around just in time to see an extremely puffy orange tail whip around the door frame and out of the kitchen.

“SHIT! JESSE?!?!” John ran out into the living room after him; the tabby was nowhere in sight.

He held very still and listened. There was a faint unhappy growling sound…with a little effort he traced it to the couch. John got to his hands and knees and peered under the sofa. Jesse was huddled all the way against the far wall, licking his front left paw. 

“Ow ow ow ow ow fucking ow…” he grumbled between licks.

“Jesse? Are you okay? I’m so sorry.”

“You hurt me,” Jesse backed away farther, looking fearful and confused. “I love you. I trust you. You’re supposed to take care of me and you  _hurt_  me.”

John deflated inside, as if his heart were a balloon that had been pierced by Jesse’s look of betrayal. He slowly collapsed onto his side and lay there on the floor, watching Jesse and wishing he could say something that would make it better. After a while Jesse cautiously got to his feet and went back into the kitchen, glancing over his shoulder at John like he was afraid the man was going to chase him down and step on him again.

He found the tuna where John had hastily set it on the counter and scarfed it down. He felt more like himself once he wasn’t starving anymore, and started to wonder why he wasn’t being yelled at for getting cat-feet all over the countertop. Jesse looked around, licking his chops. John wasn’t there. 

He hopped down and went back in the living room. John hadn’t moved. He was still lying on the carpet, facing into the space under the couch. Jesse trotted up to him and climbed onto his shoulders, peering down into his face. To his slight horror, there were silent tears trickling out of John’s eyes.

"Whoa, hey, what’s wrong buddy?” Jesse asked, nuzzling against the side of John’s head to get his attention.

“I made you afraid of me,” John whispered, continuing to stare blankly ahead. 

“What? Naw, I’m right here!”

“You were though,” John insisted very quietly. “I hurt you and you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“No, John, come on, I thought we understood this by now,” Jesse slipped from his shoulders to stand in front of his face, pushing hard into John’s chest with the top of his head. “I’m not operating with a full-sized human brain here, I’m me but I can’t think clearly under stress. I react to some stuff like a real cat would but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna feel that way about it five minutes later.”

John flopped over onto his back. “That’s just it. I  _do_  know that. I know better. I know that anything that scares you is going to overload your mind and freak you out something terrible and I still wasn’t careful enough with you.” 

“Fer crying out loud it wasn’t your fault!!!” Jesse clambered up onto his chest and angrily licked the tears off of his face. It was the best he could think of to wipe them away but he really ended up leaving John’s face quite a bit wetter and stinking of tuna.

“Oh god, what the—! DOWN KITTY!” John finally cracked a smile, wrestling Jesse off of his face and flipping him onto the floor, where he attempted to wipe off the cat-drool in Jesse’s belly fur. 

“AUGH NOT THIS AGAIN!” Jesse wriggled free and leapt onto the coffee table, sitting stiffly with his tail around his paws. John looked up at him and he glared smugly back. “Well now your face is slimy, stinky AND furry. Good job.”

“Shut up, you.”

*********************************************************************************

John set Jesse down on the bed, on top of the covers, and checked the clock one last time.

“Here we go baby, are you ready?” said John, trying to inspire a more cheerful mood in the frightened animal.

“I hate this part can I just fast-forward my life like ten minutes?” Jesse’s tail lashed furiously and he hunkered down with his face between his paws, squeezing his eyes shut.

“It’s not so bad, you get to be yourself again you know.”

“ _Yeah why don’t you fucking try it?_ _??_ ”

John gave him a look. “It’s time.”

Jesse looked up at him imploringly, and, with a slight whimper, shot back up to human size in the blink of an eye. He lay on the bed gasping like a winded rhino, as usual, and groping blindly for John, as usual. John got on his knees beside the bed and let Jesse throw his arms around his neck, burying his face in John’s collar with the same urgency as he had on this date each of the last two years.

“What is that, why do you do that every time?” John mused. “I get that it’s scary to change but this seems like an oddly specific ritual.”

“Smell,” Jesse panted. “Can’t smell you at a distance as a human, you don’t feel real without the smell for a few seconds until my brain figures out what kind of animal it is.”

He breathed in deeply again, and John held tightly onto him. There still seemed to be a lot of little things he hadn’t considered about what this whole experience meant for his beloved every year. 

Maybe he’d look up some transformation spells when he got home and see if he could walk a few miles in Jesse’s shoes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I left it open-ended I always do it's a terrible habit.


End file.
